


listen and wait for the echoes of angels who won't return

by traumatic



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. References, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Spoilers, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Gender or Sex Swap, Girl Direction, Hydra (Marvel), Season 1 at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 10:22:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4301070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traumatic/pseuds/traumatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Calm down, Louis—” Liam starts to say, but Louis won't have it.</p><p>“I am not fucking calm and I will never be again! I gave up so much for this job, for saving people, and I was fine with that! I didn’t want recognition like some wannabe Tony Stark. I wanted to fight the bad, to save the good, to be <em>unrecognizable,</em> and we were <em>doing</em> that. But how will I fight against the people I once knew? <em>Loved?</em> How could anyone?”</p><p>or where Harry and Louis—both Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.—are at the Hub when Hydra comes out of the shadows and into the light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	listen and wait for the echoes of angels who won't return

**Author's Note:**

> There are some season 1 AoS spoilers so be careful if you've not watched it yet!!!!!!!!! Or at least up to and including episode 17, Turn, Turn, Turn. 
> 
> Title from 'Everything You Want' by Vertical Horizon.

Louis has never really liked being at the Hub. She supposes that she, like all other agents, should, but she just can’t find it in her to do so. It’s loud and boisterous and there are far more people than she’s used to dealing with. Being a specialist has its downfalls, she supposes.

She cuts around a corner in late January and bumps into a large man with black tactical gear and weapons. She recognizes him as Agent Malik.

“Tomlinson,” he says dismissively.

“Malik."

He’s her superior, so she must be respectful. If she could, she’d punch his teeth down his throat, but she’s a lowly level  six agent and he is level eight. Security clearance levels fucking suck.

She brushes past him, detached and wishing she didn't have to be respectful, and heads toward the flight deck.

She’s walking toward the weapons sector when the speaker in her ear begins to buzz with white noise. She frowns, confused, and presses it.

“Hello?”

She’ll be going on a mission soon and will need her earpiece in pristine condition.

She’ll have to get a new one before she leaves. What a fucking hassle.

Louis knocks on the weapons door, glancing in. From what she can see, no one is inside. She steps in, sighing at the pile of weapons left lying around, and picks up a gun. It’s light and matte black with luminescent blue lines.

Louis likes the way it feels in her hands, steady and firm. She wonders what it does.

“That’s a Night-Night Gun,” Louis turns, spotting a woman with long and curly hair. “Well, the new and improved one.”

She has a long white lab coat on with a white dress shirt with pink flamingos underneath, tucked into a short black skirt. Louis studies her hunched shoulders and notes that it’s most likely from standing over a workbench all day.

“It’s got a nice weight. I recommend losing an ounce, though a weapons designer, I am not.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

She walks to stand beside Louis, high heels clacking calmingly on the floor, and unloads one of her guns. And Jesus Christ, she’s tall. Long, tan legs that end in beige high heels that are at _least_ three inches tall.

Louis has never been more awed.

“Night-Night gun, though?” Louis says with uncertainty. “Really?”

“The name, like the design, isn’t mine. Agents FitzSimmons came up with it and even made the prototypes. I’ve been put in charge of finding a new name and strengthening the dosage.”

“And losing an ounce? Possibly?”

“We’ll see.”

“What’s it do, anyway?” Louis asks, sliding the mag out.

“It’s a nonlethal weapon that, when shot, releases a nontoxic dose of Dendrotoxin into the body, making the victim pass out. It’s been more than effective in all of our trial runs.”

“Sounds great. A new name is what it needs, though.”

“Agreed,” she nods. “I was thinking I.C.E.R. It stands for Incapacitating Cartridge Emitting Railguns.”

“I like it. Very spy-esque.”

“It’s very fitting, I think.”

“I’m Louis, by the way.”

She pulls a bullet from the centre of the table.It’s sleek and translucent. Louis likes how it both doesn’t look like a bullet and looks exactly like one. It’s different.

“Oh, I know,” she smiles. “Agent Malik was just in here ranting about you.”

“I wonder what he _possibly_ could have said,” Louis rolls her eyes.

Malik’s had it out for her since training. Fury had taken them both from the same small town, but had trusted Louis more. It's always been a _competition_ and Louis got tired of it fast. She settled for a specialist job and Zayn got the level 8 super secret arsehole job.

Louis doesn't regret the decision.

“The I.C.E.R. rifle,” Harry says as she pulls a large case off of the counter behind them, “is  for missions that require stealth and anonymity. Plus it's nonlethal and can be fired from upwards of 1000 metres with pinpoint accuracy thanks to the scope.”

“It’s _pretty_.”

Louis steps closer, touching the smooth black edge of the gun.

“This is the gun that Hand wants you to use to ‘neutralize the threat’ or whatever. It’s been assigned to you.”

Louis nods and takes it gently from Harry’s hands, weighing it. It, unlike the I.C.E.R, doesn't need to lose an ounce. It's perfectly weighted.

“I best be going,” Louis sighs. “Mission and all. Do you happen to have another mic? Mine’s acting strange.”

“I don’t have one, but I can take a look at that one, if you’d like.”

Louis nods and pulls the speaker and attached mic off of her. She hands them to Harry delicately.

“So, where’s this mission taking you?” She asks, using microtools to pick at the device.

“Lithuania.”

"That sounds fun."

"It'll be anything but," Louis laughs. "Icing foreign dignitaries isn't what I typically like to do with my time."

“I can imagine. It sounds rather taxing.”

“You've no idea,” Louis laughs.

Harry grins down at the mic, twisting a tiny screwdriver inside and about. Louis has no idea what she's doing, but she looks rather confused about what she's hearing. Louis fakes mutual confusion so as to not allude to her ignorance.

“Oh, well, that’s quite strange.”

“What?”

“I opened up your earpiece and, from an inside view, nothing seemed to be wrong with it, so I changed the frequency. I discovered something quite odd.”

“What? Are the frequencies down or something?”

Louis has only a basic knowledge of electronics. Weapons are where she’s more skilled.

“No, there seems to be a...blanket signal, of sorts.”

She looks down at her computer, tapping on the keys before noticing Louis’ confused frown.

“It covers all known S.H.I.E.L.D. frequencies and channels, and doesn’t allow any other communications through.”

“Can you, like, un-blanket the signal?”

“No,” Harry cracks a grin, “but I can decode it using computer software.”

Louis settles against the edge of the table, watching Harry type. If she doesn’t have any communication, what would be the point of leaving on her mission? It would be stupid and reckless. At least sticking around Harry gives her information.

“It’ll take a mo. The computer has to find the key, but then it’ll sync itself. Here, let me put that in its case.”

She reaches for the rifle, carefully tucking it into a sleek black case. Everything that Harry designed, it seems, is sleek. Louis really appreciates it.

“You’ve got a nice eye for these sorts of things,” Louis begins to organize the weapons as she speaks. “Building weapons, I mean.”

“Thanks,” Harry says, smiling softly in Louis’ direction.

Louis smiles back and places the weapons in black cases until the laptop in front of Harry dings. They both rush to it, strangely enamoured.

“It’s found the key,” Harry whispers, wide-eyed. “‘Out of the darkness and into the light’?”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

She’s unsure of the exact reason why they’re whispering, but ultimately doesn’t care because a new message is decoded.

“Hydra,” Louis breathes out.

“Bloody hell. Are you…?”

“ _No_ ,” Louis says with barely withheld disgust. “God, no. Are you?”

“Hell no.”

“Good,” Louis smiles.

She’s not stupid enough to take the word of a girl she just met, though, so she tucks an I.C.E.R. into the waistband of her jeans on the sly. Just because Harry looks innocent, doesn’t mean she can’t fight.

 _Never_ underestimate a girl.

“I’m gonna look outside,” Harry tugs a pink backpack over her shoulders as she speaks. “Come on.”

Louis follows wearily, body stiff as they walk toward the door. Harry opens her bag and pulls out a transparent roll of plastic.

She presses a few buttons on it and it lights up when she presses it against the door.

“They call it the magic window,” Harry whispers, “but it's actually more like a radar system. There’re S-band microwave antennae embedded in the plastic that serve as a sort of heat detector.”

“Interesting,” Louis muses, watching hoards of people pass the weapons room. “Shit. That’s a lot of men.”

“Do you think Hydra’s actually...you know, awoken?”

“I don’t know,” Louis whispers, “but we have to get out of here—”

The door flies open, hitting both of them in the face so hard that they fly back. The pain is blunt and immediate. She hopes her nose isn't broken.

Louis stands, I.C.E.R. in hand and gets ready to let bullets fly as blood drips down her nose and onto her upper lip. She does her best to ignore it when she notices who it is.

“Agent Tomlinson,” he says with a sneer.

“Malik,” Louis says with apathy. “You working for the Nazis?”

Louis figures that since Hydra's out and about, the levels are shattered. She doesn't have to respect Zayn anymore. Not when he's waving the Nazi flag.

Zayn says nothing, just keeps his very real gun pointed at Louis’ head. After a moment, his lips curl up in a hideous smirk.

“Hail Hydra,” and Louis hears the gunshot.

Instead of her brains on the wall behind her, Zayn slumps to his knees, gun rattling to Louis’ feet.

The dendrotoxin pierces the skin on his forehead, showing blue veins under his skin as he collapses completely to the ground, officially iced.

“Badass,” Louis praises Harry, but it’s too soon for that.

They have to get out of there and _now_.

Louis leans down to pick up Zayn’s gun and groans. It has fingerprint recognition. No one but Zayn can use it.

“Got anything lethal here? Zayn’s gun's a no-go,” Louis asks as she stuffs a second I.C.E.R. into the waistband of her jeans.

“No,” Harry shakes her head. “We moved those to a separate lab for experimentation.”

“Fucking hell,” Louis murmurs, pacing. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

“Here,” Harry hands her two metal tubes the size of her forearm. “This is the only other option I’ve got.”

Batons. Louis can work with batons.

She keeps Harry behind her as she watches into the hall, nodding at Harry when the coast is clear. They shuffle along, Louis keeping her gun raised, until they reach the main conference room.

It’s crowded with Hydra agents, all sporting the fucking logo the Nazis once did. It's disgusting.

Harry and Louis watch as S.H.I.E.L.D. agents are knocked to their knees, battered and bloody, hands behind their heads.

“I’m going to give you one chance,” says an Agent Louis actually recognizes.

Hastings. He was Louis’ supervising officer.

Louis is simultaneously shocked and furious at his betrayal. They were friends! Practically _family_. How hadn’t Louis known?

“One singular chance to show me where your allegiance lies. Are you willing to commit to us—to _Hydra_ —or will we be forced to put you down?”

Louis shakes her head, disgusted by her own blindness, and looks at the S.H.I.E.L.D agents at his feet.

She recognizes very few of them.

Niall Horan, a fool, but a smart one, and Liam Payne, a brilliant sharpshooter with the most accurate shot Louis has ever seen, along with four men she doesn’t know.

“We can’t let them kill them,” Louis whispers, words like daggers.

She’ll shove her baton so far up Hastings’ arse that he’ll be picking metal fragments out of his teeth for weeks. She’ll bash his skull in with only her fists. She’ll grind him to dust under her sneakers. She’ll cut his head off and see if two really do take its place.

She’ll fucking _ruin_ him.

“How do we stop them? There’re five armed guards!”

“ _We_ aren’t doing anything,” Louis says firmly.

As if Louis is letting Harry go in there. Harry’s in a mini skirt and _heels_ , for Christ’s sake. Louis isn’t dumb.

“ _I’m_ going to neutralize the threat and _you’re_ going to keep watch.”

“Like hell. I’m coming with you.”

Louis sighs, aggravated, and realizes that Harry’s the stubborn type, like Louis. She’ll never give up. She'll just follow Louis in when her back is turned.

“Fine,” Louis says, unnecessarily angry. “Just don’t get yourself killed, alright?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry says with a nod and tugs the pink backpack off her shoulders.

Louis turns back to here S.O. and frowns.

“So, Agent Horan, have you made your choice? You’d make a brilliant addition to our science department and, if not, you’ll make a not-so-brilliant addition to the pile of dead S.H.I.E.L.D. agents out in the courtyard,” he presses a very real pistol to the back of Niall’s head.

A tear streaks down the blonde girl’s face but she barks out a laugh instead of a sob. Louis is proud.

“I’d rather fucking die than be a pawn in this shit show,” she says with strength and confidence that Louis has never heard her use before.

Niall’s always been humorous—light-hearted. It’s terrifying to hear the seriousness in her voice.

“Are you ready?” Louis asks, pulling out her I.C.E.R. and checking the mag.

It’s full.

She’ll have to maneuver this carefully. The Hydra agents are all carrying and they certainly didn’t get the nonlethal memo.

“Let’s do this."

Louis takes a deep breath and steps out just as Hastings speaks again.

“If you’re sure…” Hastings clicks his tongue, mock sad, and he puts the gun under Niall’s chin.

Before he as a chance to pull the trigger, Louis runs in and kicks the gun out of his hand. Her fist makes contact with his jaw before he even fully turns and he stumbles, shocked. She kicks him in the stomach with as much force as she can muster, anger taking over as her main motivation, and he rolls over into a crouch, lip bleeding, grinning.

"Tomlinson," he scoffs. "Thought Zayn crossed you off. Should've known to not send a boy to do a man's job."

She barely hears Harry’s I.C.E.R. firing as she elbows Hastings in a blaze of fury and shoots him in the face.

His veins go blue and his body stills after he falls to the floor. He’s still alive, which is fucking infuriating, but at least he can’t serve Hydra while passed out. She shoots him twice more just to be sure. She hopes the extra doses kill him. 

Louis turns back to the fight, ready. She takes out on agent with dendrotoxin and spins, taking down two more in twenty seconds—tops.

She throws Liam, the sharpshooter, an I.C.E.R. and takes out the guard holding her with the I.C.E.R. from her belt. Louis turns, spotting Harry taking out her own guard, and nods.

Louis is pretty sure Harry can handle herself, so she worries about the five other guards pouring in.

She punches the closest one in the face, knuckles cracking, ducks below her fist and then, when grabbed from behind, elbows the newest threat in the face. Her elbow stings, probably most definitely bleeding, and she hisses when she has to double back to do it again so the person holding her releases her. Once free, Louis fires the gun in his face and then takes down the guard behind her. 

A guard comes us on her left, gun pointed in her face and she smacks it away, catching his fist on her face. She shakes it off desperately and ducks his other fist, grabbing his shoulders and tugging him down into her knee. She pushes him off balance and then flips him over her shoulder.

He falls to the ground with a loud plop and she takes him out with one of her batons, metal banging sickeningly off his face. It has to be done, so she does it. 

Louis barely has time to register Harry’s loud voice shouting, “Duck!” before she’s hitting the floor instinctively and searching her out with her eyes to make sure she's alright. 

Harry is on her knees, hands cupped around a silver pole that she slams into the ground, Hydra guards surrounding her. The pole shimmers before the top piece shoots into the air, pulsing, and a blue force knocks all remaining Hydra members to the ground.

To say Louis is impressed would be an extreme understatement.

She stands, wiping sweat off her brow and blood off of her lips and nose, and helps Harry up, breathing heavy.

“You're trained."

“I’m an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. What did you expect?”

“Your hand-to-hand is nearly perfect,” Louis reiterates as the saved S.H.I.E.L.D. agents gather around.

“Thank you,” Harry says and then picks up the two pieces of the device, “but we should probably get going. They won’t be down for long.”

Niall says, “Statistically speaking, we have a better chance of surviving as a group, so we should stay together."

Niall and Liam give her a knowing look. Louis is downright _offended_.

“I wasn’t thinking of splitting up!”

If she’s known as the loner, then so be it, but she really wasn’t thinking of separating. Grouping up might be better for them, in the end. More eyes to watch each other's backs.

“Whatever, Tomlinson,” Liam rolls her eyes. “Where are we to go, though?”

“All Hydra members in all S.H.I.E.L.D. bases everywhere were activated, so they’re all at risk for takeover,” Harry says, frowning.

“We were not _prepared_ for this!” Louis shouts in exasperation, frustrated that no one—not Fury or any other agents—had noticed. “S.H.I.E.L.D. taught us to fight for the people, to find the bad and neutralize it. We didn’t neutralize shit after World War II. We just made them hide and we had no fucking clue. Cap was frozen for nothing and all we did was cut off a head. There’s no...no handbook on how to go about this situation! And where’s Fury? Shouldn’t he be here trying to pick up the pieces of the organization we all built our lives around?”

“Calm down, Louis—” Liam starts to say.

“I am not fucking calm and I will never be again! I gave up so much for this job, for saving people, and I was fine with that! I didn’t want recognition like some arrogant, facetious metal man. I wanted to fight the bad, save the good, and we were _doing_ that. But how will I fight against the people I once knew? _Loved_? How could anyone?” Louis shakes her head, clearing her thoughts.

They really need to go. 

“Let’s just go.”

Louis grabs an extra I.C.E.R off of one of the downed guards, wanting these traitors to suffer in the Fridge instead of hell, and leads the group out, guns drawn.

She takes out two Hydra members before she waves the group on, creeping around the next corner toward the airfield.

If they can get their hands on a plane or even a quinjet, they’ll be in good shape. Great shape, even.

She raises her gun, stunned when she sees Victoria Hand in front of her. She, of course, has a team in full tactical gear, but she alone looks terrifying enough to make Louis' hands tremble.

“Agents,” she says politely as her team raises their very lethal weapons, “we’ve got some things we must discuss. If you'll follow me,” she pushes open the door to a smaller conference room and leads everyone inside.

Her guards disarm them, putting their weapons and Harry’s bag of mystery tech onto the counter closest to Harry.

Louis yearns for her gun, missing the false sense of security it gave her, and sighs exaggeratedly at their captors when they raise theirs.

“The rest of your possibly short lives relies on this very moment. Hydra has successfully infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D. at the highest levels. It only took seven fucking decades, but today is our coming-out party.”

“I had a coming-out party once,” Louis cuts her off, hissing.

Normally, she’d have the wherewithal to keep her mouth shut, but not anymore. Not when Hand is fucking _Hydra_.

“Though it involved more fingering and less murder,” Louis snaps.

“Be _quiet_!” Hand snaps before continuing her speech. “We have the full support of the level-9 and level-10 agents. Those who resisted have been crossed off, even Director Fury. I'm here to offer you a choice, one singular choice that will make or break you. Either swear your permanent loyalty to Hydra right now, for the rest of your lives and all time, or you can share Fury's fate.”

Louis looks around at the guards, finding the weakest link. She looks over at Harry whose hand almost reaches the batons on the table. She gives her a minuscule nod, hoping she catches it, and jumps at the smallest guard.

She grabs him by his Kevlar vest and yanks him forward as Harry throws the baton. Louis catches it in one hand and loops it around the man’s neck. She kicks his knees out, hard, so he falls to the floor and pulls the metal bar taught around his throat. She feels him gag as he drops his gun and reaches up to grab at her wrists, scratching sharply into her skin.

Louis knows Hydra would sacrifice one member, but at least she’s going down fighting.

“If you take us out, we’re taking one of you with us.”

Victoria Hand raises an eyebrow and smiles. _Smiles?_

“There are now seven people that I trust,” she says, that eerie smile still on her lips.

“This was a test?” Niall frowns, hands in fists.

“I had to be sure. We were never going to kill you.”

“Even if we were Hydra?” Liam quirks her head to the side.

“Even so,” Hand nods. “S.H.I.E.L.D. has never been about murder. That’s Hydra’s thing.”

Louis nods, dropping her grip on the short guard with a sheepish smile. It’s in that second that she recognizes him and she feels proud.

He’s an arse. So much so she can't even recall his name. 

“Not even an apology, Tomlinson?” He asks, rubbing the red skin of his neck.

His voice is harsher than usual, a gritty undertone from the pressure on his larynx. Louis positively beams at the sound.

“Nope,” she muses and then turns to Agent Hand.

“We’ll make this our base until the rest of the Hub is cleared, okay?” Hand stalks across the room, turning on the screens. “Let’s see how bad this is.”

She types out a message on the keyboard, probably a distress signal or something, and sighs.

“Tomlinson, would you mind heading down to the science labs? We’ve got agents to find.”

“If I may ask,” Harry speaks politely, sort of jittery, “which agents?”

“Agents Triplett and Simmons were last spotted there. Their status is unknown and must be confirmed. When you locate them, contact me using this walkie. It’s set to a channel that no one, not even S.H.I.E.L.D. uses anymore.”

She passes it to Louis, who sighs.

“What do the agents look like? I’ve never met them.”

She doesn’t get out much.

“I know them. I’ll tag along,” Harry says happily, tucking her pink backpack over her shoulders once again.

“I’m not sure if that’s safe—” Hand begins to say, but Louis politely cuts her off.

And by polite, she means not politely at all.

“She can handle herself.”

“Okay, but she’s your responsibility.”

“Let’s go find your science nerds.”

Louis picks up her weapons as she goes. She smiles at Harry who ruffles through her bag.

“Here,” she says, pulling out a grey pocket knife.

“This...is very much a lethal weapon.”

She’s still furious over Hydra’s betrayal, but she feels much better considering S.H.I.E.L.D. hasn’t gone down yet. Louis will fight with Hand and all of the other loyal agents to the end.

“I’m not a trusting person,” Harry shrugs. “I needed something small and quiet in case things went bad.”

“Pretty, smart, and trained,” Louis muses, though she already knew all of that. “You’re a triple-threat.”

Harry smiles and her cheeks flush as two singular Hydra agents rush down the hall. Louis doesn’t have time to draw a weapon, so she ducks under the first one’s fist, grabs one of her batons from Harry’s outstretched hand and smacks him with it. He stumbles back and then charges again, punching her hard in the nose. She twists in his grip, reaching back and flipping him over her shoulder. He hits the ground hard and she shoots him with her I.C.E.R. before he can get up.

Louis turns to Harry, watching her take down her own guard with her bare hands. There’s a set of scratches on her cheek, but other than that she looks unharmed as she wraps her arms around his neck and knocks him off his feet. He crumbles to his knees where she grabs him by the back of his goggles and punches him in the face. He collapses to the floor, passed out.

Louis will never admit this out loud, but Harry might be as good a fighter as she is. And she’s _nice_!

How isn’t Harry married yet?

“Hot damn,” Louis whistles.

“He ripped my lab coat,” Harry frowns, looking at the ragged edge where a white sleeve used to be. “I loved that lab coat. It had my name and level and everything.”

“I’ll get you a new one if we find Agents Trippy and Sims as soon as possible.”

“Triplett and Simmons,” Harry sighs as she takes off her ruined lab coat, “and I’m sure we’ll find them.”

“And if things go awry, we ice them.”

“Yeah,” Harry says, frowning, “sounds simple.”  

“Because it is.”

Harry just nods.

Louis rolls her shoulder and winces when she realizes she must’ve opened the stitches there. She’d been shot on her last mission, but it wasn’t and still isn’t a big deal. Merely a flesh wound, it would take days and a surplus of bottles of anticoagulants for it to bleed out, so she isn’t worried. Harry, though, is.

“You’re bleeding! What happened?”

“I was en route to a mission a few days back and a shitty sniper got me in the arm,” Louis grins. “He had no idea who he was messing with, though. I had a bullet in my arm, lodged there, and _still_ kicked his ass.”

She’s proud of her skills. It’s one of the only things in her life that she takes pride in.

“Sounds badass,” Harry muses with a wicked grin. “I'll take a look when we get back to Hand, okay? With all that blood, you're most likely going to need stitches. 

"Fine."

"Science labs are over this way.”

“How long’ve you been with S.H.I.E.L.D.?” Harry asks, pushing open one of the many doors that line the science wing.

“Since I was, oh, eighteen maybe? I don’t really remember.”

She’s been with them for only a few years, compared to other operatives. Nine or ten, approximately.

“You?”

“Since I graduated.”

“High school?”

“No, college. I got my first PhD and they recruited me.”

“How old were you?” Louis wiggles the door.

“When they recruited me?” She hums. “Nineteen, maybe.”

“How old are you now?”

Harry doesn’t look very old, only a few years younger than Louis. She couldn’t have been with S.H.I.E.L.D. for too long.

“Twenty-three,” Harry says softly, “though my birthday is in a few days.”

“Jesus.”

She’s got almost five years on this girl.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty eight.”

“Really?” Harry looks surprised as if Louis didn’t wear her years in the wrinkles beside her eyes. “You don’t look more than twenty-five.”

“Thanks,” Louis laughs, kicking open a door and sweeping inside. Her walkie fizzles and then Liam's voice is squeaking out.

“Lou? Find them yet?” She asks. “Hand’s losing her shit. She wants to shoot Coulson out of the fucking sky!”

“Coulson?”

Louis is pretty sure Coulson died in the battle of New York, but she could be mistaken. She doesn’t know most of her coworkers well enough for gossip.

“He’s en route to the Hub with his team and she wants his plane shot to pieces!” Liam exclaims. “She thinks he and his team are Hydra.”

“Oh, lord.”

Louis knew Coulson. He’s a good man and too smart to fall into Hydra’s leadership snares.

“He’s not,” Louis says back, response immediate. “There’s no way in hell he’d become them.”

“I know,” Harry whispers. “How can she possibly think—”

“Blake,” Liam cuts in when Louis releases the button. “He went on a mission with Blake who suspected his involvement with Hydra. Blake got hurt, so now Hand suspects him.”

“Fucking hell,” Louis runs her hand down her face.

The movement makes the wound on her shoulder ache a bit, but it’s nothing she can’t handle.

“Let’s just find TripSimmons, okay?” Louis sighs. “Then we’ll talk Hand down from fucking murder.”

“Okay,” Harry says softly and they begin to push on doors again.

Louis reaches the third lab from the back and pushes on the door, sighing when she realizes it’s locked.

“D’you have the magic window with you?” She asks, turning to look at Harry.

“Yeah, hold on a sec.”

A second later and Harry is pressing the plastic to the door, orange and red heat signatures lighting it up.

“They’re definitely in there,” Louis whispers and then grabs the walkie. “We found them.”

**_-_ **

Louis and Harry are the only agents not in full tactical gear, so they wait in the conference room which had been cleared by Hand for their return. Louis, of course, makes sure Liam’s walkie is on so they can eavesdrop.  

They keep tallies on which agents are either dead, Hydra, missing, or loyal to S.H.I.E.L.D.. One list is exponentially longer than the others and, honestly, it pisses Louis off to look at it.

“Christ,” Louis shakes her head. “Who knew we had been infiltrated so deeply?”

“We knew these people,” Harry points at the long list of Hydra’s known associates, “worked with them, trusted them. I had coffee with McHannes last _week_! How could they just...betray us like this?”

“That’s what Hydra does,” Louis says solemnly, filled to the brim with anger.

At herself, at her superiors, at S.H.I.E.L.D.’s stupidity. It’s not even irrational anger. It’s perfectly justified.

“They gain your trust, they get you to like them, and then they jab a knife between your shoulder blades when you aren’t looking.”

“Do you...Did you know any of them? Other than Malik, of course.”

Louis jumps down off the table she’s sitting on and crosses the room to the board. She points at the first name, the biggest betrayal.

“Hastings,” Louis says gruffly, through her teeth. “He was my S.O..”

“Bloody hell,” Harry says with wide eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“He was...he was like family, you know?” Louis shakes her head. “Bastard.”

Louis’ walkie jumps to life with Liam’s voice, “Simmons and Tripp are with us. They passed the test.”

“Roger that,” Louis replies and types in their names on the loyalty board.

**-**

“Are you _mad_?” Agent Hand had returned to the conference room with the new allies and a lot more problems.

Coulson’s plane is set to land in minutes, seconds even. Louis is extremely anxious and concerned.

“How can you be saying this?” Agent Simmons continues, livid.

“Hydra won’t show mercy. Neither can we.”

“There is no way Coulson is Hydra! He is a good man, a _friend_!” Jemma exclaims.

“He's a liar! Agent Blake came to me with his suspicions that Coulson and the other level eights were involved in some sort of conspiracy. Then Coulson sent him on an op that put him in the I.C.U..”

“Coulson is not capable of what you’re insinuating!”

Louis figures that it’s best for her to keep her mouth shut. She hasn’t been working with Coulson for months. She doesn’t know shit. Jemma, though, Jemma _does_.

“Coulson’s crimes?” Hand asks Jacobson, who reads them outloud.

They argue a bit more, back and forth, until Hand snaps out a final statement.

“Are you telling me he's never kept a secret from you? The worst thing you can do right now is to underestimate Hydra. They hide in plain sight. They earn our trust, our sympathy. They make us like them. And when you hesitate, they strike. If we're to survive, we must learn to strike first.”

“He’s _not_ Hydra!”

“It doesn’t matter what you think you know, Agent Simmons,” Hand says dutifully. “The command has been given. Coulson’s plane gets shot at, but ultimately remains intact, and Coulson...he’s mine.”

Louis shakes her head and turns to Harry, who’s watching the exchange just as vividly.

“What do you think?” She asks in a whisper.

“He’s S.H.I.E.L.D. straight through. There’s not a piece of Coulson that doesn’t despise Hydra.”

“I agree,” Louis nods. “He’d die before serving Hydra.”

“I would, too. Hydra is cruel and relentless. They don’t care about the means, only the end. I could never—”

“It’s a good thing you don’t have to, then,” Louis says with a smile. “I could never, either—”

Louis drops the rest of her sentence when she hears heavy gunfire.

They’ve started taking Coulson’s bus out, then. Louis just sighs and shakes her head.

“This isn’t the way to go about this!” 

“She’s right,” Louis adds because she feels like she can.

“Killing people with unknown statuses is like firing a gun into a crowd of civilians. You have no idea who you’re killing!”

“I’m killing suspected Hydra members and that’s that,” Hand snaps.

Louis sighs again and leans her head on Harry’s shoulder. The movement causes her shoulder to twist and a hiss to slip out of her mouth.

“Oh!” Harry says and the scratches on her cheek move with her concerned frown. “Let me stitch that up.”

"I’m fine,” Louis says because she is.

She's had worse and she has the scars to prove it.

“It’s going to get infected!” Harry frowns, persistent. “Just let me—”

“Alright, alright. Stitch me up, buttercup.”

Harry grins, jumping off the table to grab a first-aid kit from the front of the room. When she returns, she asks Louis to delicately slide her arm out of her coat.

Louis removes her coat and then her eyes widen at the sight of blood. It’s a lot more than she’d expected.

“I knew it was a lot,” Harry says, “because it had soaked through your jacket sleeve.”

“Damn it,” Louis curses. “I _loved_ that jacket.”

It used to be gray and soft, but now it’s dirty and bloody. Louis had put serious thought to getting married in the jacket, she loved it so much.

“We’ll get you a new one when I get a new lab coat,” Harry grins, rubbing white antiseptic ointment on the wound.

“Deal.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Louis hooks her finger around Harry’s, feeling fifteen again.

“Can I ask you something...personal?” Harry murmurs, threading the needle to sew Louis’ arm up.

“Sure.”

“Are you...are you into girls?”

Louis is taken back. She certainly hadn’t expected such a blunt question.

“Sorry if that’s too forward or personal or something but I just...was curious, is all,” Harry rushes out when Louis doesn’t respond, cheeks furiously red.

“I am,” Louis says after a second more.

“Me, too,” Harry whispers and Louis thinks it might’ve been her imagination because it’s so quiet.

“What?” 

“I...I’m a lesbian.”

“Yeah?” She says and her cheeks might be pink, too, but hell if she knows, or cares, for that matter. “Maybe we could make this new jacket and lab coat thing a...a date?”

Louis knows this is the most inappropriate time to ask someone on a date, but she doesn’t care because when, after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D, is there going to be a 'good' time?

“That’d be...that sounds really nice,” Harry smiles and begins to stitch up the wound.

Louis squeezes her teeth together, used to the pain, and retunes into Agent Hand’s conversation.

“They must have sneaked off somehow,” Shaw says with a frown.

“Check the tunnels. I want two squads posted in every corridor. Capture who you can, but you have permission to use lethal force.”

Louis smiles when Jemma turns and smiles at her.

Louis can read the words on her face. They’d make it out. They always do.

-

“We heard everything,” they say as the enter the room where Coulson’s team is held up.

They’d heard it all—Garrett’s admission, his allegiance with Hydra, Phil’s innocence—through speakers hidden in the room.

Louis is so, so glad she ended up with S.H.I.E.L.D. when she sees the way Fitz—she thinks that's his name—crushes Simmons in a hug. It’s a brilliant moment.

The Hub is theirs. All Hydra members will be escorted to the Fridge and will be tried for their crimes against S.H.I.E.L.D..

The moment is so glorious—the _success_ —that a weight is released from everyone’s shoulders for just a second until they all slowly realize this isn’t the end, that the world is full of Hydra. That it’s just the beginning.

“Who is? How deep does it go?!” Coulson says, terror and fervor in his eyes.

Hand stares at him for a moment, wordless, and then sighs.

“Come on,” Hand says as she nods at the door. “We’ve got a conference room cleared enough for discussion.”

Louis and Harry lead the way, heads high in the air. When they get there, Hand walks to the board and sighs.

“Captain America has defeated the helicarriers at the Triskelion. But his status is unknown,” Hand says, the room filled with people.

Louis has never had the luck of meeting Cap, but she hopes that one day she will. He looks like he'd make a great friend.

“And S.H.I.E.L.D. has fallen,” Coulson adds.

“Hydra has taken control of the East African HQ and the Treehouse. I’m sure there’s more, but those are the only ones we know of.”

“It’s gonna be a power grab...for S.H.I.E.L.D.’s soul and integrity,” Coulson sighs.

“I’m heading to the Fridge. At least that location is secure.”

“I don’t need to remind you how imperative it is that it remains that way, do I?” Coulson sighs, looking her square in the eye.

S.H.I.E.L.D. is almost dead and everyone is full of sighs. How very complicated Louis’ life has become.

“You don't,” Hand shakes her head. “I’ll find Garrett the tiniest, dampest cell in the Icebox.”

“I’d like to turn the key, if I might, ma'am.”

Louis turns her head, seeing Grant Ward.

She’d met him before, once or twice. He’s a real tool, from what Louis has seen. Louis sympathizes with him, though. Her S.O, too, turned out to be Hydra in disguise.

“Sure,” Hand nods. “We’ll be off, then.”

And they turn and leave.

“Sir,” Fitz—Louis thinks that's his name—says, “what are we to do now?”

“Now we fight,” Coulson says carefully. “We keep S.H.I.E.L.D. alive.”

Louis likes the way Coulson phrased it. Like S.H.I.E.L.D. is a living, breathing thing that they’ve been put in charge of. Fury’s dead, the Hub is in shambles, but S.H.I.E.L.D. is still holding on. Louis, Harry, Niall, Liam, Coulson and his team, Hand and hers, they’re all holding on.

Louis just hopes that it lasts. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you liked it!!!


End file.
